


South Pacific

by Cloudlb



Category: Smallville
Genre: Fun, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:37:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudlb/pseuds/Cloudlb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark takes drama.  Schmoopy fun, with apologies to Rogers & Hammerstein.</p>
            </blockquote>





	South Pacific

**Author's Note:**

> Just for fun! Some familiarity with the musical, "South Pacific" might add to your reading pleasure.

 

_as corny as Kansas in August_

The great influx of air which swept in with Clark as he speeded up to his bedroom slammed his door and rattled the frame of the old yellow house. As he started to dump his books on his bed and get ready for afternoon chores, his cell phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hello, Clark."

"Lex!" Clark followed his books down to the bed. He bounced on his back on the old mattress.

Lex laughed at Clark's enthusiasm. "Things going well?"

"Oh, yeah. Where are you?"

"Singapore."

"Oh. Gee, that's a shame." Clark wished he could visit Singapore. Right now. At that very moment. Maybe he could swim the ocean?

"So how are your classes going?" Clark was just beginning his senior year at Smallville High. School started a week ago, and the teachers were just getting revved up.

"Pretty good. I have a full load this semester. AP English, AP History, and AP Calculus, Sociology and Drama. We have a new drama teacher, Mr. Clark, no relation, and it looks like the class will be fun."

"That's great, Clark! Have you learned anything so far? Drama is one of the great cultural art forms, with its roots in . . . "

". . . Ancient Greece. I know." Clark grinned and rolled his eyes, even though he knew Lex couldn't see him. "Mainly that's what we've been studying so far. History of drama, the parts of the stage, which way is downstage, stuff like that. But we put on two plays, one this semester, and one next. They do it every year, and you get extra credit if you participate in the play."

Lex was already planning a field trip for Clark and his classmates to view a play in Metropolis, when Clark interrupted his thoughts. "When are you coming home?"

Lex shivered a little, thinking of "home." Home meant Clark. Not that had plans to ever explicitly mention that to Clark himself. "Not soon enough. From here I have to go to Hong Kong for extended negotiations before I can even think of . . . coming home." To you, he didn't add. Seeking to change the subject, he said, "Just out of curiosity, what play will your class be staging this time?"

"It's Rogers and Hammerstein's South Pacific. Gonna come and watch? I'll probably just end up building scenery or something. I'm not much of an actor."

Because they were thousands of miles apart, Clark didn't see Lex blanche. He had a little problem with tropical islands ever since . . . well, he just did.

_carefully taught_

From: [lexluthor1@luthorcorp.net](mailto:lexluthor1@luthorcorp.net)  
To: [ckphonehome@aol.com](mailto:ckphonehome@aol.com)

Clark: I am en route to New York and thus suffering another tedious plane journey. Traveling, even in luxury, gets stupefyingly boring after a while. Hope your life isn't as dull as mine is now.

From: [ckphonehome@aol.com](mailto:ckphonehome@aol.com)  
To: [lexluthor1@luthercorp.net](mailto:lexluthor1@luthercorp.net)

Hi, Lex! Nope, not too boring. I'm pretty busy right now. Lots of homework in my AP classes, and we're doing rehearsals on the play.

From: [lexluthor1@luthorcorp.net](mailto:lexluthor1@luthorcorp.net)  
To: [ckphonehome@aol.com](mailto:ckphonehome@aol.com)

How's that coming?

From: [ckphonehome@aol.com](mailto:ckphonehome@aol.com)  
To: [lexluthor1@luthercorp.net](mailto:lexluthor1@luthercorp.net)

Good. ya know, it's really interesting. Rogers and Hammerstein put a lot of social commentary in their musicals. South Pacific is all about racial prejudice. I mean, Nurse Nellie won't even look at her planter after she finds out he was married to a Polynesian girl. Uh, you wouldn't hold it against someone you liked if they found out they were, like, a different race or something, would you?

From: [lexluthor1@luthorcorp.net](mailto:lexluthor1@luthorcorp.net)  
To: [ckphonehome@aol.com](mailto:ckphonehome@aol.com)

Not even if they were a different species, Clark.

From: [ckphonehome@aol.com](mailto:ckphonehome@aol.com)  
To: [lexluthor1@luthercorp.net](mailto:lexluthor1@luthercorp.net)

Oh. that's good to know. I got 2 go now. Chores, ya know. Bye.

_younger than springtime_

"Kent!" Mr. Clark (no relation) was standing at the head of the bus calling roll. "Clark Kent?"

"Uh, Mr. Clark, I don't think Clark will be coming with us on the bus." This from Pete, who was sitting in the back of the bus (as befitting seniors) with Chloe, Justine, and Justine's friend Sam (short for Samantha).

"But he's supposed to be here. I have his permission slip. Why is he not here? Oh, we'll miss the opening curtain!" Mr. Clark was a bit of a worrier.

Pete and Chloe looked at each other. "I'm sorry. I think he has another ride," Chloe offered. Just then, a high pitched whine encroached on their conversation, getting louder and more pronounced by the second. All the students rushed to the side of the bus facing the highway and watched as a sleek black shape whooshed by almost too fast to see. The noise became fainter.

"And I think that was it," said Pete, shrugging his shoulders.

Lex and Clark stood by Lex's car and watched the school bus and the assorted parents and chaos surrounding the early morning departure. "Think they'll miss you?"

"Nah."

After a few more moments of observation, Lex said, " _That's_ your new drama teacher?" He looked over the edge of his oh-so-fashionable glasses and continued, "he's a bit . . ."

". . .flaming? I know." Clark grinned.

"So hot he's smokin?." Lex confirmed, returning the grin.

"He's not so bad. He's a pretty good teacher, in fact."

Lex frowned. "So let me get this straight, if you'll forgive the expression," Lex smirked as he turned to open the door. Clark went around to the other side. "You're doing South Pacific. You're not actually going to be _in_ the production, are you? Running around half naked in front of that man and learning show tunes?"

"I am too going to be in the production!" Clark protested. "I'm one of the chorus of sailors."

Lex got a slightly worried look on his face and glanced at his friend as Clark struck a pose and begun to declaim, in a loud, sonorous bass, "I'm as corny as Kansas in August, I'm as normal as blueberry pie . . ." Clark stopped singing, and went back to grinning. "See? And Lex, don't worry--I won't let the bad man touch me," he assured his friend with a wink as he got in the car.

He better the fuck not, thought Lex. "Don't those sailors wear grass skirts in that movie? You haven't actually _been_ parading around half-naked yet, have you? No dress rehearsals, that kind of thing?"

"No. We haven't quite gotten to that part yet. We're still learning our lines and our marks and practicing the songs."

"Good."

What? Did Lex actually say that? Clark glanced at his friend, who was attempting his "I'm Luthor No One Rattles Me" look, not very successfully.

Clark was laughing as they took off toward Metropolis.

_gonna wash that man right out of my hair_

Clark made a face as he stood under the shower washing his hair. Weeks of rehearsal had inculcated Clark's brain with all the dialog and songs of South Pacific. What made it worse was that _hair_ song invariably made him think of Lex. Clark willfully ignored the eight hundred thousand _other_ things that made him think of Lex.

He thought of the trip to see the Lion King in Metropolis. The production had been fantastic, and Clark had had a blast during the trip with Lex. Lex was in a funny and teasing mood, a rare occurrence. He was also very sexy, and Clark had come to realize, very tempting. Their teasing and flirting had reached new levels, and Clark was beginning to believe the impossible.

Thoughts of Lex in the shower invariably led to a familiar result. Clark looked down at his cock, now stiff and throbbing in the air, and lightly ran his finger around the tip and to the base, before arranging his fingers just so and getting down to business. He let himself think of Lex, even though he usually tried to avoid those kind of fantasies. It had always seemed vaguely disloyal to his closest friend. But there was no longer any doubt that Lex was interested in him, and it was too late to pretend, in any event.

He used one of his simplest, most powerful wishes. Lex and Clark making out on Clark's couch in the loft. He wanted to slide close to Lex, breath him in, feel him against his legs as he lay on top of him. Oh, yeah, he would feel so good, and smell so good, and _taste_ so good, and he would be hard. .. oh God. . .

Clark's hand sped up on his cock. In no time, he felt his approaching orgasm. Lex was so fucking sexy . . . "Unnnh, unh, yeah . . . " Clark breathed, as his spunk washed away down the drain.

Out of his hair? Clark had heard that come was a good conditioner . . .

_Bali Hai_

". . . will call you, on the winds of the sea . . . I am your special island, come to me, come to me . . ." Clark had the music cranked up so Lex heard the familiar soundtrack from 50 yards down the lane. As he exited his car, the music stopped abruptly and Clark leaned from the hay loft window. "Hi! What are you doing here? I thought you had to stay in Metropolis because of your dad."

"Something came up which requires my father's urgent attention," Lex said as he ascended. "I think he stages some of these urgent situations himself to remind everyone how important . . ." Lex's explanation stuttered to a stop at the top of the landing. Clark had cleared a space on his loft floor by shoving most of the furniture in one corner. He was shirtless, and wearing only a tight fitting pair of black stretch pants.

Clark abruptly wasn't sure what to do with his hands. Or his feet; not with Lex looking at him like that. "Um, I was just practicing a little."

"You were dancing?" Lex demanded, raking his eyes up and down Clark's form. Clark noticed a bit uncomfortably that Lex appeared delighted with what he was seeing, perhaps because he usually didn't get the chance to see Clark with fewer than two layers of clothing.

"Well, we have a voice and dance coach who gave us some basic exercises to practice." Clark turned to his boombox and restarted the soundtrack, although he turned down the volume considerably. Clark stepped to the center of the cleared out area, and began demonstrating some basic dance exercises.

Clark was an excellent mimic. It wasn't a talent he exhibited too openly, but it came in handy in unexpected ways. He had watched his teacher and dance coach carefully, and spent some time watching the movie version of South Pacific and other old movies, especially Fred Astaire flicks. "Once I saw how dancers hold themselves I figured out it was all about isolating the muscles and how you hold the torso. You just have to stand up straight." Clark continued through his series of movements, checking his notes from time to time.

Lex moved to sit on the couch. His eyes gleamed as he watched Clark go through his paces. "You're really getting into this, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I kind of like the dancing part the most, too." Clark stopped and put his hands on his hips. "You know, it's funny. I never got to participate in sports or did anything to really use my body other than physical labor on the farm. You may not believe this," Clark laughed as he plopped down on the couch and bumped his hip into his friend to get him to scoot over, "but I went through a really painful stage at around 13 when I grew very tall very quickly. It took a while for me to get used to everything, and by then . . ." Clark trailed off, unsure how much he could explain without touching on things better kept to himself. The ruse of being slightly bumbling and uncoordinated had become a tool, like other obfuscations in his life, to shield his gifts behind obscurity. Clark rather liked the feeling of using a greater portion of his body's potential. "Anyway," Clark resumed, "the dancing kind of lets me get back in touch with my body, you know?"

"Yeah, and you get to wear spandex, too," Lex said, admiring the way the slightly shiny fabric clung to Clark's thighs, emphasizing the size and strength of musculature the young man usually kept covered.

Clark ran his hands up and down his thighs, absently. "I got them from a discount dance supply house. They were only $20, and they're real comfortable." Clark didn't say that he had been surprised at the sensation the tight spandex gave him. Something about the constriction of his belly, groin, and thighs was . . . arousing. Clark swayed closer to Lex, unconsciously scenting him and pressing slightly on the hip still connected to his on the couch.

Suddenly coming to his senses, Clark realized that he was practically draped across his best friend, with a hard on, no doubt clearly visible in the clinging spandex. He jumped up and started to repeat his routine facing away from Lex. What was wrong with him? He usually was able to control himself.

He could feel Lex's eyes on him, but after a few moments, was able to turn around without embarrassing himself. "The dress rehearsal is less than a week away, you know. We have two performances, Friday night and Saturday afternoon. Will you be able to make it to one of shows?"

The older man shook his head. "I'm pretty sure I won't be able to make the Friday night show. I'll have to check, but I leave tomorrow and won't be back until Saturday."

"You will be there for Saturday, though? It starts at 6 p.m. and, yeah! I meant to tell you . . . " Clark hesitated.

"What?"

"Well, there's a big wrap party after the show on Saturday." Clark cast hopeful eyes to his friend. "You have to come with me! The guy who plays the lieutenant is having a keg and a DJ. I want you to come, please?"

"Clark, are you sure you want me to come? People will think I'm your date," responded Lex, with a sly look.

Clark shook his head and said firmly. "I don't care if they do."

Lex stood up and moved closer to Clark, challenging him with his Luthor stare. "So, it's a date?"

Clark, so defiant a moment ago, bit his lip and looked away, backing down despite the hard-on that Lex's closeness had renewed. Lex gazed at Clark for a long moment, then turned to go.

Before he got a step, he found Clark in front of him, leaning into him with his hands on his shoulders. They backed up a step until Lex was leaning against the rail with Clark pressed closely against him, tucking his face into the older man's neck. Spandex squeaked faintly as Clark rubbed himself slowly against the other man's body. Lex took the opportunity to slide his hand down to Clark's ass. The feel of the tight, slick spandex was driving them both crazy.

They pulled apart, both breathing heavily and looked at each other. "I'll meet you after the show," Clark breathed.

***

_Extra! From the Staff at The Torch: South Pacific Delights._

The Smallville High Drama Class fall production of South Pacific brought a bright spot of warmth into the chilly Smallville fields. If the well-attended Friday night opening is anything to go by, Mr. Clark, the recently hired Smallville High drama coach, really knows how to encourage young thespians. The lead cast members, Chloe Sullivan as the perky Nurse Forbish, Charles Cox as Emile deBecque, Jeffrey Knudson as Lt. Cable, and Lana Lang as Liat, all did credible jobs with their roles and the Rogers and Hammerstein score. Comic relief was provided by the chorus of Seabees, headed by Clark Kent as the colorful Luther Billis. Less successful, perhaps, was the portrayal of Bloody Mary by . . .

 

***

_gayer than laughter_

High spirited chaos reigned backstage in the Smallville High gym on Saturday night after the second (and final) presentation of the play. Friends and family tripped over lighting wires and dodged cast members while congratulating the players. The student actors, in various stages of changing their costumes, glowed and laughed with satisfaction and relief. The noise level and spirits were high as the cast looked forward to the after party.

Clark Kent sat in the dressing area with just his jeans on, leaning into the mirror while applying cold cream to his face to remove his pancake makeup. "Hey, Kent! You gonna keep them coconuts as souvenirs?" said Pete, coming up behind him and clapping his friend on the back. Clark looked at Pete in the mirror and winked through a screen of cold cream.

"Nah, but I might keep the grass skirt," he laughed, wiggling his hips on the stool and making hula motions with his hands.

"Just as long as it doesn't show up in my locker, man," warned Pete, alluding to past practical jokes. Clark just twisted his lips in a fair imitation of his favorite billionaire's smirk. "Hey, did you seek the flowers that Lana and Chloe got?" Pete wanted to know. "A dozen red roses each, nice ones, too, and even Mr. Clark got some."

"Yeah, Pete. It's traditional. Lex sent them."

"Huh. Figures." Pete changed the subject. "Listen, I'll catch you later at the party, okay?"

"Sure. See you later." Pete squeezed his way off into the crowd. As Clark applied himself again to removing his makeup, there was a commotion near the entrance to the backstage area. "Kent? Clark Kent?" yelled a voice. Clark looked through the crowd to see someone carrying an enormous spray of flowers trying to make his way through the press of students and well-wishers. Clark jumped up.

"I'm Clark Kent."

"Delivery for you," said the guy, who was almost completely obscured by the flowers he held, and thrust the flowers into Clark's arms.

"Uh, thanks," said Clark looking down in some bemusement at the three dozen roses he was cradling. Three dozen. And not just any roses, lavender roses! Oh, boy, thought Clark, as he looked up. Most of the people in sight were staring at him, and Clark could hear whispering and giggling.

"Hey, Kent" called one of the less-sensitive jocks serving as stage hands. "You really must be Luthor's little boyfriend if he sent you flowers," he said with a sneer.

Clark drew himself up to his full, and considerable height and looked the jock in the eye. "Well, considering that Lex was named People's sexiest man alive this year, if he _were_ my boyfriend, and I'm not saying he is, I guess that makes me the luckiest man alive, doesn't it?" Clark turned away to the sound of sputtering and laughter, without spending any more time or thought on the onlookers, and placed the beautiful flowers carefully on the counter in front of the mirror. Looking at his reflection, Clark decided to leave some of his eyeliner on, just a touch. He smiled broadly at his image in the mirror.

_happy talk_

Lex caught his breath as he watched Clark turn away from his parents in the crowded parking lot of the school. Clark was looking so fine tonight; hip black wash jeans accentuating his slip hips and long legs, and a simple black t-shirt, worn alone despite the chilly weather. And was that . . . eyeliner?

"Bye Mom. Bye Dad. See you tomorrow!" Clark yelled to his parents without looking back, already focused on Lex as he jogged over to where Lex was leaning against his car. "Hey." Clark stopped a foot away from Lex. His normally bright smile was incandescent, glowing with the high from his performance.

Lex smiled back, a rare, truly wide smile. "You were fantastic!"

"Yeah? Think I have a future in the business?" Clark teased.

"As an underwear model, at least," Lex replied, only half-mockingly.

"So you were looking at my coconuts, too, hmm?" Clark's smile got smaller, more intimate, and he stepped very close to Lex. "Thanks for the flowers. They were beautiful."

"You're welcome. I hope I didn't get you in too much trouble; I couldn't resist."

Clark took a deep breath and closed the distance between them. "Just like I can't resist you," he murmured, before kissing him gently on the lips. "Come on, let's party!"

_some enchanted evening_

The party was in full swing, the keg of light beer having fueled the crowed of mostly upperclassmen. Although there were a few adults gathered in the kitchen, they were turning a blind eye to the antics of the teenagers as they danced and made out in the dark corners. Into one of those dark corners, two young men had retired, flushed and sweating from the dance floor. They shared kisses and a plastic cup of beer.

"Say, " said Clark, rubbing his big hands along Lex's sides down to his hips, "are you ready to get out of here? I told my parents the party would run late and not to wait up."

"Oh, yeah. Someplace a little more private would be," he broke off suddenly as Clark moved even closer, pressing his body against him, "advisable" he continued, breathlessly, "wouldn't you say?"

"Uh, huh . . ." Clark murmured, not quite paying attention as he kissed and nibbled Lex's neck."

"You know Clark," began Lex, as he pulled away and began to move toward the door, "I quite liked those spandex dance pants you have. How do you feel about latex, honeybun?"

Clark just grabbed Lex's hand and moved faster.

 

_What ain't we got? We ain't got dames!_

* * *

 

* * *

 


End file.
